


Alfirin

by silvertrails



Series: Warrior and Minstrel [19]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 02:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Maglor waits for Daeron and Omar.





	Alfirin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Erulisse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erulisse/gifts).



**Alfirin  
** By CC  
May, 2014 

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended.

I wrote this ficlet for Erulisse. Happy birthday, my dear friend! =)

* * *

It was spring in this part of the world yet snow had fallen unexpectedly. Maglor looked up at the clear sky, and wondered if the end was close. There was nothing that signaled it other than this changing weather, but Maglor was certain than something big was coming, a turn of the tide. Was Melkor behind it? Had he escaped the Wall of Night already, or were his servants awakening?

Whatever it was, he would deal with it, as always. But not today, he mused. Today he would just walk around and maybe go into that shop and buy something beautiful. He seldom did but he had been there before and found himself relaxing while looking at the handicraft and jewels. There was a leaf-shaped brooch that he would like to have. It was dark green with a golden base, so like the leaves of Laurëlin. 

_Am I feeling homesick now?_

Maglor smiled to himself. This was not like him. He should go back to London and his job as a university professor, but he had taken a sabbatical leave. He had agreed to meet Omar and Daeron in this country, but they were taking their time to arrive. 

Omar was probably stranded in Aman, waiting for the first opportunity to leave, but Daeron should be here already. The Opera Season in Paris was over, wasn’t it? Maglor would have to call him once he returned to the hotel, and hope that nothing was amiss. One could never know with Daeron. 

“Maglor!”

One could never know, indeed.

Daeron was standing there, cheeks flushed, hair tucked under a cap, hands full of white bell-shaped flowers. Maglor walked toward him, loving the sight of him with those flowers. Daeron looked happy and relaxed, and beautiful as ever.

“Look, Maglor. These are like alfirin.”

“They are.”

Daeron smiled and moved closer for a kiss. Maglor pulled him close and kissed him back, careful not to crush the flowers. He just hoped that Daeron had not simply taken them from some house’s garden. Sometimes Daeron forgot that even flowers were not free to take anymore. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel?” 

Maglor smiled and nodded. “All right,” he said. He would go to the shop later. He might buy something for Daeron too, maybe another brooch, not green but white like those flowers. 

“Where did you get the flowers, Daeron?” 

Daeron grinned. “A nice lady gave them to me.”


End file.
